


Will We See the Sun

by keelover



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juice listened to Chibs because he had no other choice, and more than that, he trusted him. More than anyone else, he trusted him.</p><p>Spoilers for S05E08.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will We See the Sun

  Juice stood still, eyes never looking away as Clay attempted to stare him down. Juice knew, he knew in his heart that Clay wasn’t as bad off as he had tried to convey. The game was over, Juice was done. He had never voted against Chibs, but he had, and for what? For Clay to take back the club, to make Jax look inadequate.  
  
  He felt sick, hands in his pockets as he thought about the Sheriff, and his dead wife. A knock came to the door, and Juice opened it, dark brown eyes meeting a fierce blue; Jax knew. Chibs couldn’t meet his gaze, told him to come on, come with him while Jax handled Clay alone. Juice knew his world was about to crash and burn, ashes that of a lying rat. If Eli was desperate enough, he would turn on him, reveal just how far he was willing to go for the Sons not to find out about his father.  
  
  No one would be able to save him, not even Chibs, and his gut churned at the prospect of dying in disgrace. Chibs placed an arm over his shoulder, leaning close as he whispered, “I need you to head to the club, ya hear?” Juice didn’t say anything, merely nodded his head. “Good, I’ll meet you there when this is done.”  
  
  Juice turned his body towards him, chest to chest as he caught his gaze. “I can’t leave, not until this goes down.”  
  
  Chibs shook his head. “That’s what I’m here for, Juicy-boy.”  
  
  “And that’s why I want to stay. What if something happens?”  
  
  Chibs realized he wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it, directed him towards the truck as he ordered him to get in. Juice did as told, watching as Chibs took a seat on the passenger side, fingers scratching idly at his beard. “This is bad,” he said, muttering after a moment of contemplating.  
  
  “Yeah, I know.”  
  
  “He’s been usin’ you.”  
  
   Juice shook his head, jaw stiff as he glanced out the window. “I know.”  
  
  Chibs grabbed a hold of his chin, turning his face towards him. “You’re not to leave my side, ya hear?” He loosened his grip when he saw that Juice’s eyes began to water.  
  
 “The Sheriff, man, what if he...”  
  
  “No, no thinkin’ like that, boy. We’ll handle it?”  
  
  Juice slammed his head back against the seat, hands raking down his face. “How?” he asked, voice hoarse.  
  
  Chibs grabbed ahold of him, again, hands on either side of his neck, fingers tracing the faint scars left on the side of Juice’s neck. “This is never gonna happen again, understand? I swear to God, boy, you try to kill yourself again, and...”  
  
  “I won’t. I won’t, but they will.”  
  
  The front door slammed, drawing their attention away, and towards Jax. The stiffness of his arms, the short steps he took, whatever had happened, he wasn’t pleased. Chibs hopped out of the truck, heading towards his President, he stopped, and turned around, facing Juice. “Club, and no wherelse, you hear?”  
  
  “The club. I got it.”  
  
  “I’ll be there shortly.”  
  
  “Okay.”  
  
  Juice listened to Chibs because he had no other choice, and more than that, he trusted him. More than anyone else, he trusted him. Juice tapped his fingers against the side of his jaw, eyes watering as he began to shout incoherently at himself. He was tired, hadn’t slept in over two days, and was afraid to even try. Distracted, he could hardly remember what he did an hour ago, heart racing, thoughts fragmented. He tried to catch his breath as he began to sob, unable to control panic that overwhelmed him.  
  
  Juice pulled over, wiping his eyes, unable to see. Chibs, he thought, was going to renounce him for the rat he was. A deep breath later, and he shifted into gear, pulling onto the road as he headed towards the clubhouse. The constant stream of thoughts were killing him, ever so slowly, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. The club meant everything to him, and now it was slipping out of his hands, and drawing blood as it went.  
  
  The bar was being restocked, prospects looking miserable as they were shot down, one by one, by the women who seemed more interested in the booze than them. A few called out his name, toasting to him as he headed for the spare bedroom he used when staying the night. Juice slammed the door, strict orders not to be disturbed as he removed his cut, draping it over the chair in the corner. The same gentleness was not extended to his shirt, balled up and tossed somewhere onto the floor. Juice sat down on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees as he smoothed his hands across the sides of his head, easing some of the tension.  
  
  A knock came to his door before it opened, Chibs entering without a second thought. Juice was well aware that Chibs thought any and all rules concerning him didn’t apply when he had cause to be concerned. “I’m tired of this,” he said, accent thick as he crossed his arms. “I’m tired of worryin’ ‘bout you, Juicy.”  
  
  Juice looked up at him, eyes dimmed as he sucked in the left side of his cheek, at a loss. “I’m sorry.” Chibs stepped forward, calloused hands placed on either side of Juice’s shoulder, one hand sliding up to steady his jaw. Juice felt like he was losing it again, sitting up as he pulled Chibs down for a hug, fingers digging into the leather of his jacket. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
  “We’ll get it figured out.”  
  
  Juice pulled back. “No, we won’t,” he said. “I’ve got nowhere else to go, Chibs.” The panic resumed, anxiety burning as Chibs took a seat beside him.  
  
  Chibs slung his arm over his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug as they sat there. Juice could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, and much slower than his own. Juice figured he knew, he had to know. Juice’s father wasn’t something The Sheriff had twisted his arm with; it was something he had broken it with. The thought made him cling tighter, like a follower who had lost his way, but was pleading to be welcomed back with open arms.  
  
  “You do,” Chibs said, finally.  
  
  “I don’t.”  
  
  “If I’ve got nothin’ left but to place you on a plane, then that’s what I’ll do.”  
  
  “I can’t go to Ireland, Chibs.”  
  
  Chibs snorted. “Of course not, you idiot,” he said, forcing Juice to look up at him. “Our arm reaches out that far, but Scots don’t lend a hand to no one. We’re sorry sons of bitches, that we are.”  
  
  Juice began to laugh, some of the fear seeping from his bones. “You want to drop a Puerto Rican from Queens in the middle of Scotland?”  
  
  “If it’ll keep you alive, I’ll send ya to the middle of Antarctica.”  
  
  “What kind of weed do they’ve got in Antarctica?”  
  
  “Shut up, boy, I’m tryin’ to make a point.”  
  
  Juice looked at him, serious as he patted his knee. “Thank you.” He didn’t have a lot of people who cared for him in the manner that Chibs did, and he didn’t mean to worry him, or press him into choosing between him or Jax. “I mean it, man. Thank you.”  
  
  Chibs placed a kiss to his cheek, hand placed on the back of his head. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, Juicy.” Juice smiled, weight lifted at least for the moment.  
  
  “I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without you.”  
  
  Chibs kissed him again, this time his mouth came into contact with Juice’s, and whether or not it was intentional, Juice relished the intimate gesture. He peered down at Chibs’ lips, pausing briefly before placing a chaste kiss to his mouth. Chibs reciprocated, the hand on the back of Juices head bringing him forward, kissing him with much more vigor. Juice tilted his head to the left, back hitting the mattress as Chibs pushed him down, palm placed in the center of his chest. Chibs leaned over top of him, hands cradling either side of his jaw as the two continued to kiss, Juice’s heart hammering in his chest.  
  
  The door swung open, light pooling in from the hallway. “Guys, Ja—uh, I’ll come back,” Phil stammered, shutting the door quickly.  
  
  “Jesus!” Chibs shouted. “Doesn’t anyone know how to fuckin’ knock?”  
  
  Juice placed his hand over his eyes. “Shit.”  
  
  Chibs rolled over beside him, resting his head in one arm as he placed his hand on Juice’s inner thigh. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, too much, Juicy. He’s a prospect.”  
  
  “I know,” Juice said, laughing. The heat that rose to his cheeks lingered as the two stayed put, neither one making any attempt to move.  
  
  “An’ I’m not apologizin’ for nothin’ either.”  
  
  “You and me both, Chibs. You and me both.” Juice paused, turning his head to the side as he looked at him. “I just think Phil is going to need new eyeballs, is all.”  
  
  “You can get all the eyes you want, there’s no burning that memory.”        


End file.
